What Puck's Been Dreaming Of
by justametaphor
Summary: It isn't Puck's fault that he keeps dreaming about the baby- or how it makes him react.


Puck kept having dreams about the baby. He kind of hated them. They fucking sucked. They fucking sucked so goddamn much. Maybe he could get some pills off someone at school or whatever so he'd stop having dreams but he was trying to save up some money just in case Quinn needed anything (anything at all) so he was stuck with the stupid goddamn dreams.

The little baby would be crying, and there would be Quinn (his heart hurt) and she'd take the darling baby up in her arms as Puck watched and start to feed her. Then she'd look up and smile at Puck (oh God, when was he going to forget that smile) and gesture with her head for him to come over. He would (he'd do anything she wanted) and when their baby was all full he'd take her and lay her in her crib and they'd both look down at the little baby, the little person, that they had made, the two of them. Puck knew it was a dream, even when he was in the dream, but it still made it chest feel all heavy and even though he knew he was just looking down at a dream baby girl she still felt like the best thing Puck could ever have done. Puck punched a hole in the wall when he woke up from that dream. He didn't know why.

They'd be in some delivery room in some hospital and Quinn would be screaming her fucking head off. She'd be squeezing his hand and even though it felt like it was going to fall the fuck off (damn that girl was strong) it didn't matter because all of a sudden it wouldn't be Quinn screaming anymore, it'd be a littler voice, a brand new voice made tears stream down Quinn's face and Puck's light up. The little voice would keep going as it was wrapped in a blanket and placed right on Quinn's chest. She'd be there, right there, between them, and everything would be perfect because this little new person would make it that way. Nothing was perfect when Puck woke up though.

Puck would be outside some house as these two people- he never saw their faces and he couldn't even really see their bodies he just knew they were there- were taking the toddler with curly blonde locks and tugging her and **hurting** her. Puck banged on the glass, but even his guns didn't breakthrough, and his yells just got caught in his throat and they were hurting the little girl with blonde curly hair and he couldn't breathe and he couldn't stop them and all of a sudden Puck was in his bed, screaming his head off. He hated having to try and explain that to his mom- she didn't know about any of it- so he just said it was something to do with football and then shut down. He didn't go back to sleep that night.

It'd just be Puck and the baby- his baby- their baby. He was lying on his back on his couch (the same couch from **that** night) and she was lying on his chest. She was sleeping, so he had to be real careful not to move or anything. He didn't even want to turn on Sports Center or anything, he was fine to just lie there and look at the little wasps of brown hair on the top of her perfect head. He could feel her breath- her chest moving up and down as his moved in the opposite direction. He hoped she could feel his heartbeat. Would it comfort her the way her heartbeat was making him feel—feel—whole? It took his hand and covered her back with it. She was so tiny, so delicate. He had to be very still so she'd be all right. He'd do anything so she'd be all right. She was so perfect and he had made her and he just- he just- he hoped she was all right. Puck cried when he woke up from that dream.

Puck kept having dreams about his baby. He kind of loved having them, and kind of wished he would have more. Yeah, so they were mushy and whatever, but ever since Quinn (it still hurt to say her name) had pushed him away it was the only way he felt like he could have anything to do with his daughter (she was his daughter!). It still hurt so goddamn much that he could touch her and smell her and see her now even though he knew he'd never get to really though. But so what if he wished for them before he went to sleep every night? She _was_ his daughter.


End file.
